


Shake, Rattle, and Roll

by Sorcha_Gaia (Sorcha_Luxor)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of SHIELD Compliant up to 2x14 "Love in the Time of Hydra", Angst, Clint is just awesome, Earthquakes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I'll Probably Just Throw In Everything But The Kitchen Sink By The Time I'm Done, I've fiddled with some details, M/M, Mostly Agents of SHIELD Compliant, Mostly Avengers Compliant, Mostly Captain America Compliant, Mostly Iron Man Compliant, Natasha is da bomb, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Snarky Tony is Snarkily Awesome, Steve is Too Adorbs for Words, Tony & Skye Fromance (the female inclusive version of "bromance")
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorcha_Luxor/pseuds/Sorcha_Gaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has an awesome Avengers Tower and the Avengers live there.  Coulson is Director of SHIELD.  Skye has new powers.  But she can't stay with the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and not endanger the whole team.  So where does Coulson take her?  The Avengers, of course.  They can handle anything.  Right?  Right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking Pretty Spry for a Dead Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Tony/Steve shipping because I love the dichotomy of their personalities; Clint/Phil shipping because dichotomy. Avoiding Age of Ultron (as I know I won't be finished with this before A2 comes out - can't wait!!).
> 
> Also, this is my first Avengers fanfic. I'm curious if I've gotten their characters fairly well in hand. All comments, critiques, and raves welcome - just keep your common courtesy hat on, please. :)

~*~*~*A*~*~*~

Tony paused in the doorway to the common room, his glass of green goo paused on his bottom lip, his eyebrows rising dangerously high. “Who let the dead man in the room?” he asked, glaring briefly at Steve before returning to staring daggers at the man in the middle of the room.

Steve merely shrugged, looking as gobsmacked as Tony felt. “He just … he … Jarvis let him in.”

“Jarvis?” Tony queried, eyeing the duo in front of him.

“I was unaware that Agent Coulson would not be welcome in the Tower, Sir,” Jarvis replied in his crisp, British tones.

“Oh, no, no, he’s welcome. When he’s not dead.” Tony blinked at Coulson and the young woman standing next to him with black braces on her arms. “I take it you’re not dead, Agent?”

Phil Coulson allowed a tiny smile to quirk his lips. “Not dead, Mr. Stark. Alive and well.”

“Mostly,” the girl next to him murmured. Coulson shot her a look.

“We have a situation,” Coulson said, approaching Tony and holding out his hand. Tony stared at the hand for a moment, then passed his glass of green smoothie to Steve and shook Coulson’s hand.

“Agent,” Tony said solemnly, holding the handshake for a good minute. “It’s very good to see you. How’s about you tell us how you’re walking and talking? And who’s this lovely young lady?” Coulson turned to Steve and they shook hands. Tony didn’t miss the moment of sheer, fanboy delight that passed over Coulson’s face.

“She’s the situation,” Coulson said, and Steve gestured them all further into the living room to take seats. Coulson sat on a love seat with the woman, and Tony and Steve sat on the couch together, side by side. The girl quirked an eyebrow.

“Firstly,” Coulson said, leaning back and crossing his legs, “I want to apologize for not informing you sooner that I survived the incident with Loki.”

“Mostly,” the girl muttered again.

“Skye,” Coulson said sharply, and she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the cushions as well, crossing her arms gingerly across her chest.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “It’s been how many years, Agent? Three? At least? You couldn’t tell us sooner that you were alive?”

“It was classified,” Phil replied, his face impassive.

Steve coughed. “Classified? Do you know how broken up people around here were when you died?” He absently took a sip of Tony’s smoothie, coughed again and made a sour face, and gave the glass back to Tony. Tony didn’t even look at him as he took the smoothie back, but he did brazenly lick the spot on the glass where Steve’s lips had been and nudged the soldier with an elbow. Steve rolled his eyes but did not look put out in the slightest. Coulson quirked his own eyebrow at the exchange.

“It’s complicated,” Coulson said, straightening his tie.

“Isn’t it always?” Skye said softly, and Coulson sighed

“Introductions are in order, I suppose,” he said. “Skye, this is Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, also known as – “

“Iron Man and Captain America, yeah, I know,” Skye said with a smile. “Nice to meet you, superheroes.”

“And you’re Skye,” Tony repeated, setting his smoothie down on the coffee table. “Skye what?”

“Just Skye,” she said, her smile fading.

“Her real name is Daisy Johnson,” Coulson started, but Skye interrupted him.

“No, my name is Skye,” she said fiercely, picking at her left brace. “I don’t use the name my father gave me.” The Tower trembled for exactly one second, but no one noticed except Skye and Coulson.

“Ooo, daddy issues, I know about those,” Tony said perkily. “See, look at that, we’re already bonding. Should we be bonding?” he asked Coulson.

“I think it would help in the long run,” Phil agreed amiably.

“Excellent,” Tony exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “We can share horror stories later, Skye.”

“I’ll win,” Skye warned.

Phil raised a hand. “Tony, Skye, please. Let’s get down to business.”

“Wait,” Steve said, leaning forward. Tony’s hand drifted to the small of his back and rested there, warm and comforting. “How long are you here for, Phil?”

“Just long enough to debrief you on the situation and make arrangements for Skye,” Coulson responded.

“Oh, hell, no,” Tony said. “You’re staying until Natasha and Clint have seen you, and Bruce. And Steve’s sidekick. You don’t get to just go all SHIELD-y on us, appearing from beyond death’s door, then zipping out again. We’re going to get some quality time.”

“I don’t have time for that, Tony,” Phil said impatiently, and slapped a thick folder down on the coffee table next to the smoothie. “Things are moving quickly and I have to get back to HQ.”

Steve stood and pulled out his cell phone. “Then, while you’re briefing Tony, I’m going to get them all in here. They deserve to see you, Phil.” 

Coulson met Steve’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “All right, Captain. I’ll give Tony the rundown. I can’t say I wouldn’t like to see Natasha and Clint and Bruce. I’m guessing Thor is visiting Jane Foster? Or is in Asgard?”

“New Mexico,” Tony affirmed. “And, hey, you’ll get to meet Steve’s sidekick,” Tony said.

“Tony, he’s not my sidekick,” Steve chided, holding the phone to one ear as it dialed a number.

“He’s totally your sidekick,” Tony retorted, “but he’s cool, I like him.”

“What’s not to like?” Sam asked, entering the living room, then stopping when he saw Coulson and Skye. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nope!” Tony said, patting the couch next to him. “Have a seat, birdboy, Uncle Agent is about to tell us a story.”

Sam sat slowly on the couch. “Agent? As in – “

“Yep. Agent Phil Coulson, back from the dead, and sparkly as ever. Looks pretty spry, doesn’t he, for someone who got shishkebobbed on Loki’s Sceptor of Doom.” 

Steve sighed, then moved towards the kitchen, his voice low as he spoke into his cell. “Natasha? Yeah, it’s Steve. Look, something’s … happened … ”

As Steve’s voice faded from hearing, Tony turned to Phil and folded his hands together. “Agent, this is Sam Wilson. Sam, Agent Phil Coulson, formerly dead, now, apparently, very alive.” Sam raised a hand in a half-wave, and Phil nodded to him. “So, Agent Coulson. Give us the spiel.”

Phil paused a moment, then launched into the complicated events that had followed his death by Loki’s spear. He shared details of the blue alien - the Kree - with whose blood he and Skye had been injected and their miraculous recoveries from the edge of death, his promotion to Director of SHIELD, the driving need to carve the plans of an ancient city, Skye’s psychotic father and what details they had on her unknown mother, the machinations of Hydra and Whitehall, formerly known as the Nazi Werner Rheinhardt, the discovery of the ancient city, the Diviner of alien origin, and Skye’s change when the Diviner was slotted into the ancient, alien city. Tony was, surprisingly, silent throughout the lengthy explanation, listening and drinking his green goop and taking notes on a StarkPad. As Phil spoke, the agent flipped through the thick file, holding up pictures, documents, and a USB drive to illustrate certain points and key moments in his narrative. Towards the beginning of his tale, Steve had returned from making calls and sat beside Tony, giving Tony’s StarkPad notes a quick read to catch up. Then, shoulder to shoulder with Tony, he listened as Coulson explained about Agent Triplett, Grant Ward, and the rest of the team on the Bus. There had been a tremble or two in the Tower, but the shakes had again passed without comment from the Avengers present.

When Coulson finished, he flipped the file closed and sighed deeply. Skye had also remained silent during Phil’s debrief and was staring a hole through the floor.

Tony considered her a few moments, then looked at Phil, his stellar brain slotting information into place. Then he finally said, “Well, I can’t speak for Bruce, so you’ll have to talk to him about working with Skye.”

Coulson didn’t look surprised, but Skye’s head jerked up. “How did you know?” she asked.

“Duh,” Tony said. “You’ve got a control issue. If anyone would know about control issues, it’d be Bruce.”

“And you,” Clint said, entering the living room. He stopped and stared at Coulson.

“Well, yes,” Tony admitted, “but Bruce actively works to control those issues. I just keep a list of them.”

After a moment of very long silence, Clint stepped forward and stood almost nose-to-nose with Phil. “What. The. Fuck.” He scrutinized Phil’s face, then suddenly pulled him into a hug. “You fucking son of a bitch,” Clint murmured, and Tony had never heard that particular tone, almost clogged with tears and regret. Phil’s arms slowly rose to hold Clint to him just as tightly, and they simply clutched each other, foreheads smashed into each other’s shoulders.

“Awkward,” Skye said, shifting on the loveseat. Clint flipped her the bird behind Coulson’s back.

“Can’t wait to see Nat’s reaction,” Tony whispered, sotto voce, to Steve. “Should I go pop some popcorn?”

Eyes wide, Steve looked on the verge of nodding his head, then looked at Tony sharply. “Tony,” he warned. Tony held up his hands in placation.

Finally, Clint and Phil pulled back, and Phil whispered softly, “I’ll call later.”

“Yeah, you will,” Clint responded, and stepped away. “Nat’ll be here soon. She’s perturbed, shall we say.” Phil looked almost nervous for a microsecond. Clint grinned evilly. “You deserved that.”

Phil smiled, a full smile this time. “Yes, I did.” He retook his seat and Clint perched on the arm of the loveseat next to him, his hand lingering on Phil’s shoulder. Phil did not shrug it off. “Tony can brief you, Clint. The basic gist, however, is that Skye, here, has been … gifted, shall we say, with some pretty incredible powers. I was hoping Dr. Banner might be able to help her with them.”

“What kind of powers?” Clint asked, his thumb rubbing the dark cloth of Phil’s suit jacket.

“The earth shattering kind,” Phil replied.

Skye rolled her eyes. “I make earthquakes,” she said bluntly. “So far. I don’t know what else I can do.”

Tony started singing softly, “You make the earth move under my feet.”

Phil looked at Steve. “He hasn’t changed.”

“No, not really,” Steve admitted. “But you get used to it. Like a benign mole.”

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed.

“A benign mole on your ass,” Clint amended.

“Hey!” Tony said again, glaring at Clint.

“And here I thought there’d be some maturing happening,” Phil murmured, tidying the file.

“Not if it can be helped, apparently,” Sam commented.

“I can’t leave this file with you,” Phil continued, trying to jerk the conversation back to something business-like. “Do you have all the info you need, Tony?”

“Yeah, no problem. Jarvis took a picture of everything, anyway, in case I forgot something.”

“Tony – “

“I know, I know, top secret, all very hush-hush. You know Jarvis can’t be hacked, Agent.”

“And now he will be,” Sam muttered, knocking his knuckles on the wood coffee table.

“Please,” Tony said scornfully. “Genius, here. Don’t be foolish.”

“It happens, even to Sam,” Natasha said softly from behind Tony.

“Dammit, woman!” Tony yelped, scooching closer to Steve and glaring at Natasha over his shoulder. “I’m belling you.”

“Only if it’s with your balls, Tony,” Natasha said with a bland smile, and Tony licked his forefinger and painted a ‘1’ in the air. 

“Point,” he conceded.

“Agent Romanoff,” Phil said, rising from the loveseat.

“Agent Coulson,” Natasha said, standing before him with her hands loosely held behind her back.

“At ease, Agent,” Phil said, his eyes kind. They looked at each other for a moment, then hugged tightly and briefly. Tony made a noise of surprise.

“Yes, Tony, I made a gesture of affection, you’ll get over it,” Natasha said wryly, quirking a smile at Phil. “So what’s the situation?”

Phil looked around the room and sighed when he realized that Bruce hadn’t joined them yet. “The one person I really need to discuss this with isn’t here yet.”

“Agent Coulson, Dr. Banner is currently on his way up in the elevator,” Jarvis interjected smoothly.

“Excellent. Then I’ll wait a moment. Tony can give Clint and Natasha the rundown with Bruce.”

It was only a matter of moments before Dr. Bruce Banner entered the living room, his purple shirt wrinkled and his hair a wild mop of tangles. He pushed his glasses up his nose and his eyes widened as he caught sight of Phil. 

“Agent Coulson?” he asked incredulously.

“Please,” Phil said, standing. “Call me Phil. After everything that’s happened … “

Bruce shook hands with Phil, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “We thought you were … well, very dead.”

“I get that a lot,” Coulson said blandly. “Tony, if you could catch the rest of the team up on what’s going on, and then we can get down to brass tacks.”

Still withholding his snarky remarks, Tony looked down at his StarkPad and summarized for Clint, Natasha, and Bruce what Phil had related to them about everything that had happened since the Battle of New York. No one spoke as Tony relayed the information. Natasha watched Skye carefully while Clint listened with one ear, never taking his eyes off of Phil. As for Skye, she sat almost primly next to Phil on the loveseat, picking at the braces on her gloves and occasionally tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So that’s the skinny,” Tony said finally, throwing the ‘Pad down on the coffee table.

Bruce looked down at his hands knotted in his lap. “You need me to help her,” he said softly to Coulson.

Phil looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “You’re the best person who could help her with her control issues.”

“Don’t you think I’m kind of the worse person she should be around?” Bruce said rather incredulously. “What if I … go green, and she freaks out? She could bring the whole Tower down.”

Tony scoffed. “Not possible. If I could reinforce the Tower to withstand Hulk-force, I think it can handle a few shimmies.”

Coulson raised an eyebrow and turned to Skye. “I know you’ve been trying to control this, Skye,” he said. “Can you give Tony a tiny demonstration?”

“You think that’s wise?” Skye queried, her forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Sometimes Tony needs to see to believe,” Coulson said with a smile.

Skye took a huge breath and shrugged, then pulled off the braces. She closed her eyes and appeared to concentrate intently on somewhere deep inside her. After a moment, the Tower began to tremble and sway, only a centimeter or so, but enough to make Tony’s eyebrows shoot up again. 

“Okay,” he said, “I’m a believer. I’ll need to come up with something to help brace the Tower if you two are going to be practicing … whatever it is you’ll need to practice to help her get a handle on her powers.”

“Um, no?” Bruce interjected. “I haven’t agreed to this. I don’t think this is a very smart idea, at all.”

“I do,” Steve said suddenly. “Bruce, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Your control, your symbiosis with … the Other Guy has improved dramatically since the Battle of New York. He knows right from wrong, he knows who his teammates are, he knows what to do in a fight. I don’t think he’ll present a danger to Skye.”

“Hi?” Tony said, raising a hand. “My Tower? Do I get a say?” Before anyone could answer, he said quickly, “I agree with Steve … I think Bruce – I think all of us – could be of help to Skye.”

Clint snorted. “You agreeing with Steve, big surprise.”

“You want those new arrows?” Tony asked him.

“You two are totally independent individuals,” Clint said smoothly and looked anywhere but at anybody.

“Nice save,” Tony said, and turned to Natasha, who had been silent to this point. “Natasha?”

Natasha sighed and looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes, including Skye’s. She paused a long moment, then said, “She should be here. But we’ll need to establish some ground rules. Tony, see if you can build her a shock-proof room.” Tony opened his mouth to say who-knows-what, but Natasha skewered him with a raised eyebrow. “If there’s a battle, Skye goes to that room and stays there until we come back. She’s not to engage in any combat situations.”

“I am a full agent, you know,” Skye said indignantly.

“Who makes earthquakes when she’s nervous,” Phil said kindly. “I can’t imagine you in combat, with or without a gun, with no control over your powers.”

“Do you think Thor will have a problem with this?” Clint asked.

Steve shrugged. “Who knows, he might be able to help in his own way. He is the god of thunder and lightning, that’s an elemental power. Maybe he knows something Asgardian that could help Skye.”

“For the record, I’m not really cool about all this,” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. “I know I’m the new guy and all, but things are chaotic enough as it is around here without an earthquake machine making things even more unstable.”

“I’m not a machine,” Skye said indignantly.

“How are things chaotic?” Phil asked, brow furrowing. “I thought things were sorting themselves out here in Avenger Tower. Nice Tower, by the way,” he said to Tony.

“Naturally,” Tony said airily while giving Sam a shut-up look. 

“He’s very modest,” Clint said to Skye.

Tony glared at Clint. “Shut up, Katniss. I think what Sam over there means is that we’re all big personalities – or big people – and like any dynamic group, there are arguments and goings-on. We’re good, though.” 

“Katniss?” Skye queried, and stifled a giggle.

“Ignore him,” Clint said flatly.

“I don’t think I can,” Skye grinned. “That opens up a whole plethora of options.”

“We’re definitely going to get along,” Tony said, smiling brilliantly at Skye.

“Behave,” Steve said, trying to hide a fond smile.

“Not a chance,” Tony retorted and clapped his hands. “All right. We’re going to have dinner – Agent, you’re having dinner with us. Ah! If need be, tell Fury that Hulk sat on you until you ate. That way, we can get a little more time with you.”

“Actually, Fury’s no longer Director of SHIELD. I am.”

There was dead silence as everyone gave Coulson the googly eye. Then Tony cleared his throat. “All the more reason you need to stay and tell us all about it.”

“Tony, I really – ” 

“Sorry, no excuses, la la la, I can’t hear you.” Tony stood and beckoned to Skye with one finger. “Come along, San Andreas, I’ll show you to your floor and then we’ll dine with the Walking Dead.”

Giving Coulson a skeptical look, Skye picked up her duffel bag and followed Tony out of the room. The rest of the Avengers sat staring at Coulson until he cleared his throat. “So. How about that whole SHIELD thing in DC?” Steve put his face in his hands and groaned.


	2. Eat, Drink, and Be Scrutinized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Agent, fun times for all, many musings. Short but sweet summation, eh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pre-Age of Ultron, and is Agents of SHIELD compliant to 2x14 ("Love in the Time of Hydra"). At this point I'm ignoring AoU, although I may play with it later, and I'm ignoring everything after AoS 2x14 in the television series. (Although, OMG, the season finale was fan-effing-tastic!) This is movie and television based, with little of the comics. Welcome to my sandbox. :)
> 
> Comments, critiques, and, yes, even criticisms are welcome - just please wear your Common Courtesy Hat at all times. :) Feedback juices the geek muse. :)

 

~*~*~*A*~*~*~

It was obvious the Avengers were still trying to assimilate the knowledge that Agent Phil Coulson was alive and well.

As they sat about the dining room table, joking and laughing and throwing rolls at each other (and expertly catching said rolls out of the air), there would often be moments of silence that hugged Phil like a cozy sweater. The staggering realization that this beloved man, with his perfect, dead-pan humor, his enormous heart, and his unwavering loyalty, was alive, alive and well and talking to them as if he’d never been gone, was the ultimate balm for that most grievous of wounds that they had sustained. Every Avenger savored his presence and stored these new memories deep in their minds. Even Sam, who knew Coulson not at all, could sense the love his teammates felt for the agent, and could feel his own welling of camaraderie for Phil like a newly planted seed in his soul. Then the mood would shift, a very obvious “Oh-my-Gods-we-have-Phil-back!” vibe zipping from Avenger to Avenger, and the laughter would sparkle more brightly. There was a certain carefree feeling to the meal that hadn’t been present in ... well, ever.

The dining room table was round. Tony had specifically chosen it so there was no head or foot of the table. If something needed to get across the table, there would be dishes pushed across the glossy wooden surface on a cloth trivet, or a bowl would make the round-robin until it got to the intended person. The table was loaded with a variety of foods, enough to satiate the appetites of fifteen normal people, not to mention a supersoldier, a gamma-irradiated scientist, and a Norse God, if he had been present. There was, amongst the amazing spread, a roast turkey and rosemary-and-dill russet potatoes, pizza, Chinese food, Thai food, macaroni-and-cheese, sushi, lasagna, broccoli and corn-on-the-cob, along with pitchers of ice water, iced tea, lemonade, and beer. Tony and Steve sat next to each other, absent-mindedly serving each other and snitching food off each other’s plates. Natasha and Clint bracketed Phil like assassin book-ends, while Skye sat between Steve and Bruce, who sat next to Tasha. Sam sat between Tony and Clint. It was all very uncivilized, with raucous commentary and good-natured gibes, and Phil couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of joy. Maybe he could. The memory of Captain America, frozen in a slab of ice, and someone saying, “This guy is alive!” flashed briefly through his mind.

Steve parceled his time between Tony and Skye while stuffing himself on turkey and potatoes and pretending he hated the sushi that he slithered off Tony’s plate and popped in his mouth. He really did love those California rolls. Skye ate with her braces off, and there was nary a tremble as the meal continued. Steve took this as a sign that Skye felt relaxed and, hopefully, as content as she could be at the moment. She was, after all, being left with a group of superheroes in order to try to get a handle on her own gifts that had obviously rendered her confused, defensive, and combative. Steve certainly couldn’t blame her. When Skye gave the thumbnail version of her time with Coulson and his SHIELD team – a version that Tony listened to avidly, sometimes leaning across Steve and his plate – Steve was immediately impressed with the young woman. She had worked hard and overcome much to become a member of SHIELD, and she held her distinction as an agent close to her heart, like a rare treasure. Steve understood that pride in an accomplishment that some would consider impossible – he was living proof of that. Really, every Avenger was proof of that. They had all suffered their agonies, their defeats, and their hard-won triumphs to find themselves at this table, with these people, with this mission of protecting the world. If everything went as he thought it might, Steve could easily see Skye one day becoming an Avenger. Which, he thought with a narrow-eyed glance at Coulson, was probably the agent’s end-game. Looking at Tony and having one of their silent eye-conversations, Steve knew that Tony had figured it out, too – Skye wasn’t just here for training. She was here to make a home. Steve wondered if Skye had figured that out for herself, yet. In a way, he hoped she hadn’t. This kind of life, for someone so young, needed to be eased into. She had enough to wrestle with at the moment without trying to figure out how she was going to fit in with a team of such disparate yet powerful people.

Dessert was had in the living room, people perched casually on sofa arms, sat crossed-legged on sofa cushions, or spread on the floor, enjoying their cheesecake, or ice cream, or coffee doctored with a choice liqueur. When Phil began to collect his file and put on his jacket, the Tower trembled for a moment. He looked at Skye fondly. “Agent,” he said softly. “Of all people, you have the most ways of getting in touch with me.” He glanced at Tony. “Even more than you, Mr. Stark. I think you’ll find Skye’s computer abilities may be equal to your own.”

“I look forward to testing that theory,” Tony said with a smile at Skye. “I’m going to kit you out in the computer gear of your dreams.”

“Consolation prize for not being a member of the team any more?” Skye asked Coulson, the bitterness clear in her voice.

“Skye.” Coulson sat next to Skye on the loveseat and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve never not been a part of my team. You are a valuable member, and someone I consider to be the closest thing I have to family. This isn’t goodbye. This is just Superhero School.” Skye’s mouth twitched in a smile.

“How long will I have to stay in school?” she asked, obviously struggling to keep the petulance out of her voice.

Phil shook his head. “As long as it takes. I trust, Agent, that you’ll conduct yourself in a manner that will make me proud.”

“Of course,” Skye replied, mocking affront.

Phil smiled again, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll check in on you, Skye. Soon.”

“You’d better.”

“We’ll take good care of her,” Steve told Coulson as everyone stood to gather near the elevator to say goodbye to the Director.

“I know you will, Captain,” Phil said, tucking his file under his arm.

“Steve,” the Captain said, “please call me Steve.”

“I would be honored,” Phil replied, his eyes lighting up.

“Wait ‘til you spend more time with him,” Tony said to Phil, hip-checking Steve. “Once he’s let out one of his super soldier burps, the shine kind of wears off. They might give Skye’s quakes a run for their money.”

“Oh, let’s not talk about bodily emissions,” Steve retorted, hip-checking Tony right back – a little harder than Tony had – sending Tony’s slighter frame staggering. “You after a night in your workshop is in exercise in restraint. As in, me restraining myself from bodily chucking you into the shower.”

Before Tony could start a rant, Natasha started herding everyone back to the living room. “I think Clint would like to escort Phil downstairs,” she said, and no one had the nerve to argue with her. Skye, who didn’t know the Black Widow like the team did, merely followed along after giving Phil a huge hug. “Call soon,” she whispered and was into the living room before everyone else.

Steve listened for the elevator to close, then turned to his teammates. “Well,” he said, looking about at each of them. “That was … mind-blowing.”

Tony murmured agreement, his attention focused on his ‘Pad.

“Tony, you’d better not be watching Clint and Agent Coulson in the elevator,” Sam said, raising his eyebrows.

“Rude,” Skye said.

Tony flashed a grin at Skye, then held up his StarkPad. Clint and Coulson were in the elevator, the emergency button pressed so the carriage was stopped between floors. They were in the middle of a very intense, very obviously loving, clinch.

“Ew,” Skye blurted.

“Tony,” Natasha warned, and Tony rolled his eyes and turned off the ’Pad.

“I was just wondering how much Clint had been missing him,” he said. “I didn’t want to make any erroneous comments.”

“Since when?” Sam asked with a grin.

“I’m trying to be more self-aware,” Tony replied haughtily.

“Be self-aware without spying,” Natasha scolded, and Skye pointed at her. Tony smirked at the obvious hypocrisy of Nat chastising him for spying.

“What she said,” Skye affirmed. “That’s the closest I’ve got to a dad. I don’t need to see my dad doing the hanky-panky.”

“With Clint?” Sam asked.

“Pfft, with anyone!” Skye exclaimed. “I just don’t need to have that in my head. Can’t you control your boyfriend?” she asked Steve.

Steve sighed, a much put-upon sigh that elicited a smooch on the cheek from Tony. “I try,” the super soldier said, gently biting Tony’s shoulder. “My success rate is low, though.”

“I wonder why,” Skye said wryly, and Tony laughed.

“You and me?” Tony said, pointing a finger between himself and Skye. “House on fire.”

“I was afraid of that,” Bruce said under his breath.

“Speak for yourself, Science Bro,” Tony mocked.

Bruce sighed, heavy and thoughtful, and they all instantly sobered. “You and me?” he said to Skye, pointing a finger between himself and her. “We’re going to talk. In a day or two.” He stood up, coffee cup in hand. “Lovely dinner, everyone, thank you. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He exited to the kitchen, where they heard the coffee cup being put in the dishwasher, then his soft footsteps fading away towards the stairs to his lab.

Sam looked around at his teammates, observing the suddenly exhausted faces. “Hell of an evening,” he said mildly.

Natasha looked at him and quirked her lips. “As ever, your talent for understatement is unparalleled.” Sam bowed his head in mock modesty.

“Does this mean it’s bed-time?” Skye asked, pulling her braces back on.

“Only if you want it to be,” Tony said. “I’m going to work in my shop for a little bit.”

“Don’t be too long,” Steve murmured, catching Tony’s eye and gently biting his bottom lip. The tender flesh bloomed rosy and Tony swallowed hard.

“Um,” Tony said, instantly distracted. “Right. Not too long. You betcha.” He shook his head, kissed Steve’s nose, and stood. “Care to see where the magic happens?” he asked Skye.

“Sure,” Skye replied. “Lemme see you get your iron groove on.”

“Right this way, Magic Fingers,” Tony said, gesturing grandly towards the elevator. He was rewarded with groan from Sam at the nick-name.

Tony and Skye passed Clint in the foyer as the archer exited the elevator.

“You’ve got stubble-burn, Cupid!” Tony called as the elevator doors slid closed.

“Stark, I swear I’m – ” but the doors had closed on Clint’s last words.

Skye smiled at her reflection in the elevator doors as the carriage started to rise. ‘I might just like it here,’ she thought to herself, and picked at her braces pensively.


End file.
